The Mutants
by ChameleonArch
Summary: Donna and the Doctor crashland on a wasteland planet. Is this a trap or an accident?
1. Crash Landing

Disclaimer: If I owned anything of Dr. Who, believe me, I would probably be very rich and happy and not doing this. So, yeah, I own none of this, not even DT, unfortunately, and none of this goes to my monetary gain.

The Mutants

The TARDIS rumbled and shook, her whole framework shaking and bleeping emergency sounds. The occupants, a skinny man wearing a pinstriped brown suit and gravity-defying brown hair sticking into the air as he bustled furiously about the sparking consoles, and a woman with long red hair dangling in her face clung to the railing around the TARDIS' heart. Both were trying their best to remain standing when the floor could be the ceiling in less than two seconds.

"Doctor!" Donna yelled. "You'd better _bloody _well know what you're doing!"

"You know me, Donna," he flashed a grin. "I never know what I'm doing." Swinging down a small mallet on the dashboard surrounding the TARDIS' heart, he lodged his foot in a lever to push it down while stretching his lanky form over to hold down a button. With a shuddering, jolting halt, the TARDIS went silent and the only lights glared red lights down on the two shaken time-travelers.

"So, what, Doctor?" Donna smirked, crossing her arms and leaning her back against a golden coral-like structure. "Use your 'magic mallet' too many times?"

"Hah ha, very funny, Donna," he rolled his eyes, staring with worry at the screen of the TARDIS. "But if I can't fix this, we're stuck here for awhile. Unless you know a really good repairman…"

"Oh stop being such a Gloomy Gus, there must be someone out there," Donna nodded her head at the door, feeling oddly reluctant to open the door. The Doctor glanced up, a mix of emotions running past his face, excitement being the strongest of them.

"Allons-y!" he called, grabbing his coat from a coral arm and rushing out the door.

"It's a rubbish heap," Donna said flatly.

"Ah, Donna, the joy of being on a new planet with you and your optimism," he sighed.

"But it is," Donna looked around and shivered as a blast of cold wind shuttled past them. "Cold too." Piles of corroded metal sheets were lumped together in haphazard stacks, tilting over a dirty path, worn by weather and covered in little bits of rubbish like cans and bottles. Donna prodded a pile of rubber boots that quickly tumbled down over each other and fell apart. Jumping back, she looked around for the mad Time Lord. "Doctor?" he was less preoccupied with the wasteland they were in than the TARDIS. He pressed his ear up against the worn blue box, murmuring comforting words under his breath, as if to a lover. Donna rolled her eyes as he pulled a stethoscope from his pocket and, putting the earpieces in his ears, placed the chest-piece on the door. Donna could only imagine what he was listening for from it, but he quickly turned to her.

"Donna, listen to this."

"I'm not putting those things in my ears!" Donna protested. "I'm not putting any Martian earwax in my ears, thank you very much."

"Donna," he sighed. "Just listen." Reluctantly, Donna put the buds in her ears, after rubbing them thoroughly with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket, and heard… nothing. Absolute silence.

"What?" she looked at him. "What do you expect to hear?"

"Something, anything," the Doctor frowned up and down at the TARDIS. "She only went silent in the parallel dimension, but inside…" he ducked back inside, the golden innards of the beautiful craft glittered as usual, "she's fine. So why's she so quiet?"

"Sleeper mode?" Donna suggested sarcastically.

"No, she snores," the Doctor seemed to think this a very sensible question though. He paused. "That's weird. Typically she hates being told that."

"Doctor!" Donna saw something coming from behind a nearby trash pile. He turned to look.

"Hallo, what's that?" he dashed towards it, coat flailing out behind him like a brown sail.

"Doctor…" Donna groaned, rushing after him. Sometimes she felt like the whole time she was with him it was about running. She quickly joined him, a couple feet from the black-hooded figure. The hood lifted up to look at them, and a golden mask stared at them, big black, insect eyes filling up most of it, while the mask dipped down into a sort of curved beak. "What is that, Doctor?" Donna stared at the robotic creature.

"Dunno," he shone his sonic screwdriver over it, a slight 'whirring' noise emanating from the device. "Some kind of hologram, I reckon." He came forward and swept a hand through its body, sending droplets of black light scattering. "Yup, hologram, good for one though. Well, for a planet like this. Well, good for an image, I suppose…"

"What is it doing here?" Donna wondered aloud.

"Probably a scrapped recording projecting it," the Doctor dismissed the projection and began to walk away.

"Doctor," the voice crackled through the mask.

"What?" the Doctor turned, staring at it. "What? How do…"

"My master wishes to see you, if you would care to follow me," the creature began to walk away.

"Hang on," Donna grabbed the Doctor by the sleeve. "I thought you said that thing was a scrapped hologram." The hologram stared at them intently.

"Maybe it is, if it leads to civilized country, though, does it matter?" the Doctor turned to the hologram with a cheerful smile. "Well then, take me to your leader." He turned his sparkling, excited gaze to Donna who only rolled her eyes back.

The hologram had led them to a small palace a mile or so from the TARDIS, than disappeared almost instantly outside the doors. An old intercom system buzzed and a charming voice came from it, deep and rich with luxury and wealth.

"Doctor I presume?" the Doctor smirked a little bit.

"Yes, and you can skip all the other stuff about being thankful to see me, yes quite right, you know."

"You know your history, sir. I do hope I don't overestimate your ability, but I've heard many grand things about you."

"I try," he winked at Donna.

"Servitude will let you in," the door opened to reveal the black hooded robot.

"But he's a hologram," Donna protested, looking at the Doctor in astonishment. "You waved your hand through him!"

"Holograms have to be based off a living creature, Donna," the Doctor shook his head at the ceiling.

"Well pardon me," Donna retorted. "I only just started time-traveling." They entered the small palace, too curious about their new scenery to notice Servitude slinking around behind them, out the door…


	2. Ferdinand Kingshire, Pleased to Meet You

**...I freaking hate my computer sometimes... If any of this sci-fi lingo doesn't fit in with the typical Dr. Who stuff, it's because I've only ever seen the ninth-eleventh Doctors, plus a smattering of the first. And my computer's too jacked up to research certain things to make this sound more Doctor Whoish. If the Doctor sounds stupid, it's my fault, and my computer's.**

The black halls were draped with blood red velvet, tapestries sewn with the most brilliant colors with golden tassles depicted bloody battles and mythical creatures, osme of which even the Doctor had only ever heard of in stories. Donna waited impatiently for the Doctor to come away from one, tapping her booted foot on the glassy floor and glaring at him through red bangs.

"B-but that's physcally impossible!" he sputtered, studying one of the pictures the only way the Doctor could study something, sonic screwdriver humming and eyes squinting through a pair of glasses he wore only to make himself look intelligent. "The Karlath were defeated in battles a millenium ago! No one could possibly know what they looked like!"

"It's an artist's rendering, Doctor," Donna rolled her eyes, staring at the door before them. The hall ended in a cul-de-sac, a dark wooden table stood in the corner, comfortably housing a small ceramic vase from which drooped red flowers. The smell of sweetness permeated the air with a thickness that couldn't possibly have been coming from the withering flowers before her. "Think we're allowed in?"

"That ever stop you before?" the Doctor muttered, but put away the brainy specs and joined her at the door. He was about to open it when a man's voice came from behind them.

"Oh, Doctor!" the man wore a grin on his face that lightened a chiseled exteror as he held out his hand. "So pleased to meet you, sorry I couldn't get to you earlier... technical difficulties with the staff... Ferdinand Kingshire, at your service, sir!"

"No, no 'sirs'," the Doctor shook his head, feeling rather uncomfortable aroudn this man bursting with energy.

"Hey, he could beat you in a gob-contest I'll bet," Donna elbowed him slightly.

"And is this your lovely assistant?" Ferdinand turned to her, the same light in his dark eyes, but a more charming grin on his face. "That I've heard so much about, Donna Noble? Let me tell you, the next time I know a woman is coming with the Doctor, I'll make sure to cancel all previous arrangements. He has very good taste." He kissed the back of her hand as a light pink rose to her cheeks.

"You could take lessons," the Doctor's only reply was a snort and a roll of his eyes.

"Ferdinand, my TARDIS lands in the middle of a wasteland where you just happen to want to see me and happen to have a hologram point set there," the Doctor said flatly. "I can't help but think that maybe you're the reason she's currently stuck. And if there's one thing I don't like, it's people mucking about with my TARDIS."

"I assure you, Doctor," Ferdinand's enthusiastic face took a more serious turn. "There is a rhyme and reason for it, and my men will have your TARDIS running as soon as possible..." at a more smoldering, quiet-anger stare from the Doctor, he quickly added, "under your supervision and direction, of course."

"Of course," the Doctor said quietly.

"Now, as dinner may take some time, I'll have Servitude show you to your rooms..."

"Rooms?" the Doctor asked quickly, a frown settling over his eyes and mouth.

Ferdinand glanced between the Doctor and Donna, "Ah, I didn't realize; I am sorry Doctor, ou didn't strike me as the married type..."

"No no no no," they both hurried to correct him. "No, definitely not, no," the Doctor went so far as to make a face and Donna looked ready to be ill.

"He just gets TARDIS-sick," Donna laughed as the Doctor shot her an affronted look. "The only one the Martian's married to is that ship."

"I am sorry for the miscalculation, then," Ferdinand apoligized. "The rooms, of course, are on either sides of the hall through this door. Servitude will show you the way." As the Doctor followed Donna and Servitude, who had appeared on the other side of the door, Ferdinand smiled. "After all, Doctor, a TARDIS isn't fixed in a day."


	3. A Bit of a Tiff

**...I freaking hate my computer sometimes... If any of this sci-fi lingo doesn't fit in with the typical Dr. Who stuff, it's because I've only ever seen the ninth-eleventh Doctors, plus a smattering of the first. And my computer's too jacked up to research certain things to make this sound more Doctor Whoish. If the Doctor sounds stupid, it's my fault, and my computer's.**

The black halls were draped with blood red velvet, tapestries sewn with the most brilliant colors with golden tassles depicted bloody battles and mythical creatures, some of which even the Doctor had only ever heard of in stories. Donna waited impatiently for the Doctor to come away from one, tapping her booted foot on the glassy floor and glaring at him through red bangs.

"B-but that's physically impossible!" he sputtered, studying one of the pictures the only way the Doctor could study something, sonic screwdriver humming and eyes squinting through a pair of glasses he wore only to make himself look intelligent. "The Karlath were defeated in battles a millenium ago! No one could possibly know what they looked like!"

"It's an artist's rendering, Doctor," Donna rolled her eyes, staring at the door before them. The hall ended in a cul-de-sac, a dark wooden table stood in the corner, comfortably housing a small ceramic vase from which drooped red flowers. The smell of sweetness permeated the air with a thickness that couldn't possibly have been coming from the withering flowers before her. "Think we're allowed in?"

"That ever stop you before?" the Doctor muttered, but he put away the brainy specs and joined her at the door. He was about to open it when a man's voice came from behind them.

"Oh, Doctor!" the man wore a grin on his face that lightened a chiseled exteror as he held out his hand. "So pleased to meet you, sorry I couldn't get to you earlier... technical difficulties with the staff... Ferdinand Kingshire, at your service, sir!"

"No, no 'sirs'," the Doctor shook his head, feeling rather uncomfortable around this man bursting with energy.

"Hey, he could beat you in a gob-contest I'll bet," Donna elbowed him slightly.

"And is this your lovely assistant?" Ferdinand turned to her, the same light in his dark eyes, but a more charming grin on his face. "That I've heard so much about, Donna Noble? Let me tell you, the next time I know a woman is coming with the Doctor, I'll make sure to cancel all previous arrangements. He has very good taste." He kissed the back of her hand as a light pink rose to her cheeks.

"You could take lessons," the Doctor's only reply was a snort and a roll of his eyes.

"Ferdinand, my TARDIS lands in the middle of a wasteland where you just happen to want to see me and happen to have a hologram point set there," the Doctor said flatly. "I can't help but think that maybe you're the reason she's currently stuck. And if there's one thing I don't like, it's people mucking about with my TARDIS."

"I assure you, Doctor," Ferdinand's enthusiastic face took a more serious turn. "There is a rhyme and reason for it, and my men will have your TARDIS running as soon as possible..." at a more smoldering, quiet-anger stare from the Doctor, he quickly added, "under your supervision and direction, of course."

"Of course," the Doctor said quietly.

"Now, as dinner may take some time, I'll have Servitude show you to your rooms..."

"Rooms?" the Doctor asked quickly, a frown settling over his eyes and mouth.

Ferdinand glanced between the Doctor and Donna, "Ah, I didn't realize; I am sorry Doctor, you didn't strike me as the married type..."

"No no no no!" They both hurried to correct him. "No, definitely not, no!" The Doctor went so far as to make a face, sticking his tongue out almost comically, and Donna looking ready to be ill.

"He just gets TARDIS-sick," Donna laughed as the Doctor shot her an affronted look. "The only one the Martian's married to is that ship."

"I am sorry for the miscalculation, then," Ferdinand apoligized. "The rooms, of course, are on either sides of the hall through this door. Servitude will show you the way." As the Doctor followed Donna and Servitude, who had appeared on the other side of the door, Ferdinand smiled. "After all, Doctor, a TARDIS isn't fixed in a day."


End file.
